Promos for Assault 12/29/17

[Quillz]

***Tiger Gold silently watches Brian Fury’s promo on a monitor in the lobby of PWA’s talent relations building. He places his might hands on his hips and takes a deep breath.***

TIGER GOLD: “Those... are the words of one who understands the ‘fighting spirit’... and is not afraid to embrace destiny. Brian Fury... I look forward to meeting you face to face.”

[Snow]

So, apparently whoever is in charge of the booking of PWA decided that Brawler Beckett deserved another shot. I know, I know. Some of you are saying they decided that *I* deserved another shot. But I think the facts speak for themselves. Beckett proved that he isn't able to beat me without cheating once. This time around, I have no doubt he'll reach into the dirty playbook once again. And when he does...

Look, I'm not one to back away from a good clean fight. I pride myself on putting on a good show, on fighting clean regardless of what happens. Win or lose, I can be proud of myself after a match that way. Beckett; he just doesn't give a damn how he gets there. And despite my protests, despite the evidence stacked against him, it seems that the PWA management thinks he's good enough to be in this ring.

I don't. Brawler Beckett is a cheat shot artist at best. He has never won a single accolade that he didn't end around the rules. Not a single one of his title reigns came without an asterisk. The fact of the matter is, that Bart just isn't good enough. He can't hack it, so he has to cheat. And if the management wants me to be the one to prove it to him yet again, so be it.

You can't hack it son. You never could. You never will.

Prove me wrong, I dare you.

[Nick Spoils]

The screen fades up from black, revealing Nick Spoils wearing a blue suit jacket over a plain t-shirt. Flanking him on either side are Armageddon -- the giant Ragnarok on his left barely in the frame, and the intense stare of Gehenna on his right.

Prestige Wrestling Association. You've got a myriad of stars lined up in your roster. You've got Akira Wyld, scion of the great Greco and former champion. Snow, who held two different titles at the same time. Brawler Beckett, who tore up so many competitors in other countries that they banned him. Brian Fury, once a client of mine. The Coldsnakes. Even Tiger Gold. You've got a number of promising rookies eager to cut their teeth on the competition in the ring.

Each and every one of you is now served notice. Allow me to introduce the pair that will undoubtedly be on the top of the heap of this promotion quickly and permanently.

Ragnarok, the big man, I found in the coldest reaches of Siberia. Where he was literally wrestling a bear that had dared to try to take some food from his home. Raw, untamed power. I stood there in awe, barely able to believe my eyes, as this man right here lifted that bear up off the ground, over his head, and THREW it no less than twenty feet. It took me some time after that to convince him to join me in my pursuits of wrestling greatness, and when he left, the villagers threw a great celebration. They renamed their village after him that day. They called it Ubiytsa Medvedya, Bear Slayer, after this man right here. And that was just one of the great victories he has had in ring after ring as we trained him up. Now, that raw power I first saw that day in Siberia is honed to a devastating, limb-from-limb, back-breaking, neck-ripping glory.

Alone, he could defeat each and every one of you. But he isn't alone, not by a long shot.

Now, this man right here is a mystery even to me. I found him in Palau wrestling in a tavern for free drinks, and taking on all comers. The man slithered like a snake, breaking bones, destroying ligaments, and ruining futures. He had a hold for every situation, and didn't even seem to be trying. He was a machine. I saw twenty in a row that first day. The second day I went back and saw him defeat thirty.

He might be there to this day, save for one thing. Ragnarok stepped in, and the two of them went toe to toe. Blow for blow. Tactics and power. Neither of them able to get an advantage on the other. Let me tell you, I cleaned up on the wagering when I started putting money on them to close the place.

Three hours they fought, and neither of them could take out the other. I convinced them that as a team they would be unstoppable.

So, PWA. We have come here. Two of the baddest men on the planet, working together as a team. Armageddon has come. May the gods have mercy on your souls.

[Pennyworth]

Scene opens on Pennyworth, dressed in an obviously bespoke suit, leaning against an absolutely beautiful cherrywood desk. He is impatiently looking at his watch, and making a 'move it along' gesture with the other hand.


You're ready finally? Good.

Rhett Holiday, it seems that we have been matched up against each other at the debut episode of PWA Assault. I'm glad that I am being given the opportunity to prove myself early. It has been quite some time since I actually worked a match -- and lets be honest, I didn't exactly light up the ring on my last opportunity. But at that point in my life, the hubris of youth combined with the lack of any real world experience gave me an enormous ego that was mostly unwarranted.

This time around, I intend to do it right. I've been training whenever I'm not working. I'm now in the best shape of my life, better even than when I wrestled in college. I've come up with a few new tricks. So when we meet, Rhett, you'd better be wary. I intend to make the absolute most I can out of this opportunity, and you're the first who has been placed in my way. I'll try not to hurt you too badly, but if you don't stay down when you should, all bets are off.

[Quillz]

***Junior Cobra and Giant Anaconda are seated in the back row of a weathered looking Greyhound bus watching Armageddon’s recorded promo on a used RCA Tablet.***

COBRA: “God YouTube Red is great.”

***Cobra slaps Anaconda on the chest and points enthusiastically at the screen.***

COBRA: “SEE?! That’s how you do it! These guys... these guys totally have the formula down. Big guy and a little guy, intimidating names, manly posing. That’s how you do it am I right?. We need to get us one of those old veteran guys to do our talking though... that’s money right there.”

***Anaconda mumbles something unintelligibly under his breath.***

COBRA: “Right! Like back in the day with the old boss! Nemesis Rex was the man... ah, memories. But seriously, we need us an old talker guy.”

***Cobra taps a gloved mit on the scratched screen.***

COBRA: “AND we totally need to kick the crap out of THESE guys. Think of how awesome we’ll look if we smack the snot out of guys with THAT kind of wardrobe budget! Look out Armageddon, the FIERCE and DEADLY Coldsnakes are coming to PWA!”

***Cobra throws his hands up in triumph and accidentally slings his tablet out the open window of the moving bus***

COBRA: “MOTHERFU..*”

***Camera cuts to black.***